


Snowflakes

by Anonymous



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Side Stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:14:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23473036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Short pieces related to the story "Ice and Dragon." They range from angsty to fluffy to slice-of-life, but they aren't necessary to understanding the main story. It may help you relate to or understand the characters better, but that's not the goal of this work. I hope you can enjoy it in spite of this.





	1. Ice: In the Past

People thought that her fear of ice was due to her status as a Dragon-type trainer, which was and still is a weird assumption. Fire-type trainers don’t have hydrophobia, and you won’t see any Electric-type trainers fleeing from mud. Yet they persisted, making stupid jokes and jeers. She had wanted to yell at them, watch their faces curdle and pale as they learned where it had truly stemmed from. But with that urge came the memory of that day. And whenever that happened, Iris found that she suddenly didn’t want to do much of anything anymore.

Ice was the merciless winter. The chill of her parents’ skin when she went to wake them, and the emptiness when they wouldn’t wake up. To the rest of the village, it had seemed that Iris had come out unscathed, but she knew that wasn’t true. Like it did to her parents, the ice had seeped into her body. But unlike them, it wasn’t content to encase her heart and slow it to a stop. The ice had somehow snuck into her soul. She could feel it. Why else would she feel so numb? Why else would she see the gray of winter, no matter what the season? Living like this. It was nothing more than being a walking corpse.

Meeting Peach brought warmth back into her life. Happiness that made her eyes shine and cheeks rosy. Apple pie that tasted sweet. The forest and the village regained their vibrant colors. But the ice still lingered, simply laying dormant. It would strike once more when the cold returned, when her moods were low, whenever she was alone. So she’d stick to the warmth, to all the suns in her life. But then she was selected to be a vessel for Kyurem, which meant she’d have to conquer her fear.

If only she knew how.


	2. A Story about Coffee

Colress likes to think that he is a man of utility. Function over fashion. When it comes to food or drink, nutrition should be one’s utmost concern, with flavor being secondary. Thus, in accordance with his beliefs, coffee should be consumed for the sake of caffeine. No need to buy artisanal beans from Alola or spring for strange novel flavors like pecha-rawst berry crumble! Even the cheapest beans have caffeine, and he doesn’t want to divert too much of his funding away from his research. As such that’s what he buys, and that should be all he needs.

Yet, here he is again, ready to dump another mug of coffee down the drain.

Color warms to his cheeks as the corners of his mouth tick into a frown. How many cups had he wasted this month? There isn’t any point in counting because Colress already knows that the answer is somewhere between excessive and egregious. 

“Flavor is superfluous. As long as it can get me through the night!”

Stubbornly, he brings the mug to his lips and promptly gags. Its bitter and burnt flavor is even more pronounced with the reduced temperature. Truly unpalatable! 

What can be done to remedy this?

A coffee connoisseur he is not and has no desire to be. There are other ingestible stimulants out there that can help him work through the night, but energy drinks remind him too much of his hellion-esque roommates from college. Then there’s tea, but he brews that even worse. He shakes his head and drags his eyes over to his bag of pre-ground beans.

“I really should just use what I already have.”

Reluctantly, he sets the mug down and heads over to his laptop. It won’t do him any good to continue preparing coffee with his current method. Scalding when fresh and disgusting to stomach if he waits too long for it to cool, which is often (the allure of research is distracting). It’s time to search for a new brewing technique. The sooner he gets this done, the sooner he can return to his work.

* * *

The bad news is that Colress has to power through the rest of the night, no caffeine to aid him. By the morning, he is a bleary-eyed, staggering mess. He falls face first into bed, not even bothering to take off his glasses. This new way of coffee preparation better be worth it.

* * *

A few hours later and it’s time for breakfast. Yes, it can still be called breakfast despite it being 16:00. After pushing himself out of bed and making minor modifications to his disheveled appearance, Colress trudges over to the kitchen. The pantry yields a nutrient bar. Then from the fridge, he retrieves the jar of what could be called his first beverage experiment. 

He filters it and pours himself a diluted serving as suggested. After scrutinizing the liquid for a good few seconds, he takes a tentative sip. It tastes a little flat, but there’s a pleasant sweetness to it, which is welcome after the years of bitterness that he’s had to endure. Colress smiles. Shame that he’ll have no use for the coffee maker anymore, but it didn’t cost much anyway.

Looks like cold brew coffee is a success!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a not so serious chapter. I feel like Colress is the type of person who would live on nutrient bars. I also imagine he stays up late a lot working on whatever project or experiment he has going on. Kind of like living a voluntary night shift sort of schedule. Night shift doesn't have to mean you drink coffee though (I don't really, except on the toughest of nights).


	3. Gardening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief look into the past as Kyurem and Shannon plant together.

Shannon stirs.

[Damn. What time is it?]

Eyes creaking open, the window revealed the edges of gold that were slowly permeating into the residual purple and pinks of the night. Giddiness is tickling the corners of her lips, threatening to form a smile. Excited energy races through her body, digits twitching in anticipation. Her gaze rolls to the clock.

05:31

She huffs.

[Kyurem. The deal was 06:00.]

-That is correct. The gardening begins at 06:00; however, I know that you humans need time to wake up and prepare for the day. There should be plenty of time for ‘getting ready’ and breakfast.-

It speaks quickly, eagerness bursting in its tone. She pictures Kyurem bobbing up and down like some hyperactive torchic, bouncing on the balls of its talons. What a kid.

[Fine, fine. You’ve already woken me up anyway. Geez.]

She jumps out of bed with a surprising grace or her age, easily transitioning into a series of stretches. The grogginess that usually accompanies the early morning has already faded, usurped by a youthful vigor. The tips of her extremities prickle with an icy chill. With a muttered swear, she straightens and heads for the kitchen. She grabs a few storage bins from under the sink and begins filling them with ice. The cold finally recedes as she fills the fourth one. Looks like she’ll be going to the market later.

[I know you’re excited, but sending this much energy is a bit much.]

-Sorry…-

Its mood dims, sensitive to scolding as always. Shannon can’t help but feel a little bad.

[Hey now. It’s getting warmer. I’m sure folks will appreciate the ice. Now perk up! Just a quick meal and change of clothes, and it’s planting time!]

With its attention back onto the promise of planting, Kyurem’s mood springs right back. She keeps to her word, gulps down a smoothie and gets her gardening clothes on. Then she gathers the necessary seedlings, seeds, and a few garden markers. The last frost has passed, so today they will be planting peppers, beans, tomatoes, and basil in the food garden. A beaming smile finds its way onto her face, and she has the urge to coo tenderly. Only one being enjoys gardening that much, and it isn’t her.

-May I?-

Shannon sets the supplies aside, and sits down. It’s been a while since she and Kyurem had switched places. Best to give it time to readjust to the human body.

[Yeah. I know you’ve been waiting for this.]

She leans back and closes her eyes. Kyurem opens them. It tests the joints and muscles, flexing and stretching. Carefully, it rises using the table for support. Humans have a different sort of bipedal locomotion. After a few laps around the kitchen and practicing the use of the marvellously convenient thumb, it’s feeling reasonably confident. Humming an odd tune, Kyurem gently transfers the seedlings into a basket, leaving a bit of room on the sides for the seed packets and garden markers. Each seedling is evenly spaced in their tiny fiber pots, washcloths placed as needed between them so that they don’t tumble when rocked as the basket moves. Satisfied with their placement, it inspects the sprouts from various angles. Are any falling over? Any discoloration? Any—

[Alright. Enough babying them. They’re hardy like me.]

Kyurem puffs its cheeks as it pouts.

-But they are young. Is it not natural to ‘baby’ those in their earliest forms of life?-

[Compared to you, everyone is a baby.]

Ah, yes. That would be the natural comeback, now wouldn’t it? But Kyurem is ready with its own counter.

-I suppose. But if that is the case, then these are extremely young, thus in need of more care.-

Smugly, Kyurem finishes the checkup as Shannon waits impatiently. Finally it heads out the front door, cradling the basket in its arms. The soft crunch of the dirt pairs well with the cool morning air. Each step is a rhapsody, taking it closer and closer to the finale!

Well, to the planter actually. (But let’s not ruin Kyurem’s fun!)

Squatting down, Kyurem looks at the basket in contemplation.

-What should we plant first?-

[You can start with the peppers and tomatoes. Be sure to plant one seedling per square foot.]

-Understood!-

Kyurem nods seriously before retrieving the trowel from its gardening belt. Under Shannon’s more practiced eye, it manages to space the seedlings properly. Automatically, Kyurem reaches for the basil, ready to do the same.

[Woah! Hold on there. Basil plants don’t need as much space. You can do two per square foot for those.]

It pauses.

-I see. Thank you for the direction. Would it be the same for the beans as well? I would assume not, since you did not pair it with the basil in your instructions.-

Shannon laughs. It’s good to see Kyurem tempering its excitement and thinking ahead.

[Oho.~ That’s right. The beans we’re planting are bush beans, so you can plant four per square foot.]

Kyurem glows with pride, rosy cheeks and an obvious smile. The rest of the planting flies by without any further error. It wipes its brow, taking in the neat rows and lovingly handwritten garden markers. Kyurem looks at its borrowed body, skin dusted in sweat and grime, gaze stopping at its gloved hands. Human hands can do so many things that claws never could. Their bodies don’t generate ice either. They’re warm, able to nurture life on the inside and outside. Its face falls and Kyurem feels a hollow pang in its chest.

It’s almost time to switch back.

[What’s the matter? Sad that there’s nothing left to plant? If you really want to keep gardening so much, you can pull some weeds. Just don’t blow out my back.]

Shannon speaks with a joking tone, not reading too much into Kyurem’s sudden morose mood. Considering its zeal for gardening, it’s a natural conclusion to reach.

Not wanting to dwell on the feeling, Kyurem gladly goes along with Shannon’s misinterpretation. It doesn’t need another subject on its long list of laments. As morning gives way to day, Kyurem returns to the incorporeal.

It waits for the next time, though there aren’t many left. The time for transfer is approaching. From what it knows, the new vessel is a trainer. Maybe she likes gardening. Or at the very least, has house plants. Kyurem tries to hope, tries to be optimistic.

Anything to get this bitter ache of longing out of its heart.

**Author's Note:**

> "Snowflakes" is a fun type of stress relief from writing the main story and is helping me get past writer's block right now by forcing myself to write.


End file.
